Just Another Extraordinary Day
by Fyrshi
Summary: Shizuo's temper is already bad enough without someone worsening it, yet inexplicable actions during the week have led to an incredibly short fuse. Unfortunately, it's all but gone when the perpetrator of his bad mood reveals himself... but wait, who is that strawberry-scented figure in white and pink? [Gift Fic From 'Letters'; Rated T for Violence/Profanity; Random Crack]


_**A/N: **Yeah, this is way overdue and should've been posted up more than a month ago... but I finally got around to finishing this oneshot and, well, here it is! For those that may or may not know, this is a present for **Mockingjay Rose **for being the 100th reviewer on another one of my stories, 'Letters of Complaint'... so yeah, hope you enjoy it MJR~ This is a standalone story, for the few of you that may be wondering whether they need to read another story first before they read this one, so please do read it and enjoy it at your leisure. Before we move on, though, I should put up some disclaimers and warnings..._

**Disclaimer: I do not own any facet of Durarara (which belongs to its rightful writer, Ryohgo Narita). All I own is the plot, which is probably not all that original to begin with...  
Warning:** Mentions of violence are in here, along with vague hints of Shizaya (if you squint really, really hard). If trolling isn't your cup of tea, then I suggest clicking that 'back' button and finding another story. Otherwise, if you have any other problems, feel free to light a flame in the box below... or leave a review, if you're nice~  
_**Note:** This was based on MJR's idea for hippie!Izaya, which I took to be... well, you'll get it if you read on... and my own idea for a stupid chase for April Fool's..._

* * *

**~Just Another Extraordinary Day~**

* * *

"…Shizuo… Heiwajima Shizuo… did you hear what I said?"

The taller male shook his head blearily and frowned at the golden locks peeking over his eyes –it was high time he got a haircut, in any case, and he filed away the thought into another part of his mind– before he turned to the sighing man beside him. "Ah, sorry, I wasn't listening… what did you say?"

The other merely shook his dreadlocks from side to side and sighed again as he repeated what he'd said earlier. "You seem a little spaced out, Shizuo… is there anything wrong?"

All Shizuo did was huff out another lungful of smoke and placidly watch as it floated into the air. It took a while for him to come up with an answer that would sound both plausible and reassuring, but he eventually came up with something to appease his boss. "Nah, I've just been unable to sleep, Tom-san. It's really nothing to worry about."

Although the shorter man didn't seem to be pleased with his answer, he held his peace and allowed the silence to stretch between them for a while as they made their way down the road. It was quite true that Shizuo had been unable to sleep, and that his employer had nothing to worry about in regards to his ability to protect him, but the cause for his sleeplessness had been something that he'd rather not discuss with the other male, even if he was his long-time friend and a trustworthy individual. The fact that they were meandering down one of the busiest streets in Ikebukuro during the lunch hour, when several others were hurrying up and down the road, was even more of a deterrent for him, and so they continued to walk side by side, while enjoying the relative silence that comfortably enveloped their forms.

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The problem had started about a week ago, when he had returned home after his usual day of threatening debtors with his explosive anger, with the odd scent he had smelt in the air. To be honest, the aroma itself wasn't the oddest thing about his return to his apartment —after all, he generally liked to eat sweets and the lingering smell would often stay in his home for days on end at times—because strawberry was a flavour that he had often smelt during his life. The fact that it was there in the first place, when his home had been bathed in the soothing scent of lavender for the past few days, was a little disconcerting to him, but he had thought that nothing was amiss. Besides, the mere notion that someone would barge into his home for the sole purpose of changing the smell of his apartment was ludicrous, and so he had simply ignored the oddity of the situation and carried on with his much-needed shower and sleep.

However, the problem had not really ended there.

The next day, while he had been engrossed in beating the money out of yet another unfortunate debtor, he had been momentarily distracted by the strong whiff of strawberry that had appeared as soon as he had managed to release the man and grab the money needed. Although he tried to whip his head around as fast as he could in the general direction from which he sensed the smell, all he saw was a flash of pink as someone or something disappeared around a corner. He had run towards the disturbance with half a mind to throw whatever it was into the hospital on the other side of the city, but all he had been met with was the overpowering stench of strawberry essence and some other unpleasant odour lingering underneath it. It had only been when his boss had called out his name from the other end of the alleyway that he had finally given up grinding his teeth, and he had stalked back to beat up some other unfortunate debtor at some other unfortunate location.

He had the same problem for the next day, too, when came home and found something rather akin to a white rabbit plushie lying innocently in the middle of his coffee table, and he had almost thrown the coffee table, faux rabbit and all, out the window, when he spotted its startlingly pink eyes and the tag hanging off its neck. Out of curiosity more than anything, he had picked up the tag and read the message attached to it… but around five seconds later, the sound of breaking glass and the unholy splintering of his coffee table echoed throughout the vicinity of his apartment. He hadn't particularly appreciated the curly script and the girlish tones of cerise, but the message atop it, which read something like 'Share the love and hug a tree today~!' had pushed his temper beyond salvage point, and residents had cowered in their adjoining apartments as he roared and raged for the entirety of the night.

Each and every trigger, from the slightly unpleasant scent of strawberry and _something_ to the odd gifts of white or pink that found their way to his front door and a few choice pieces of furniture, had sent him spiralling further and further into the abyss of insurmountable anger… yet he could do nothing to stop his anger, or the influx of catalysts that triggered it. The only thing he could do was simply vent his fury whenever the situation arose, and live through it all.

After all, his everyday life consisted of anger and its suppression anyway…

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The screams of the latest unfortunate victim that fell prey to his violence dwindled in volume as Shizuo stuffed his hands into his pockets and slouched away from the suspiciously bent traffic sign lying in the middle of the otherwise-deserted alleyway. Despite the itch in his throat and the growing desire to chase it away with a breath of smoke, he kept the air around him clear and his hands firmly clenched into fists, just in case something popped up again. The week of unexplained smells and puzzling questions arising from the unwarranted gifts he'd also received had kept him highly alert, and he was determined to catch the source of his ill temper once and for all, before his mind exploded from sheer anger. There had actually been instances when he had nearly caught the source of his grief and misery after he'd spotted flashes of white and pink when that _smell_ arose, but no matter how hard he threw the object in his hands or how fast he ran after it, he could never lay his eyes upon the mysterious person that was intent on ruining his life.

His obvious state of unease was probably why Tom cast him a sympathetic glance and a slightly gentler pat on his shoulder as they walked away.

"Are you alright, Shizuo?" His boss asked, and even though the other male had heard the question so many times in the past week that he was more than ready to send the next person to ask him such a question to the nearest hospital, Shizuo restrained himself from acting on his urges. After all, he liked to be paid after an annoying day of work, and concussing his employer and long-time friend would do nothing to help his anger anyhow.

"I'm okay," he simply replied, and dug his hands further into his pockets.

Instead of questioning the short reply that the blonde man had given, Tom merely cast him a sidelong glance and shook his head slightly, before he continued to walk silently next to the quiet male. Despite his foul mood, the man garbed in his bartender attire found a small smile forming on his face at the tacit respect that his former senpai had given him by leaving him as he was, but he found the smile slipping all too quickly off his face when something —or, rather, _someone_— decided to come and upend the comforting silence on the semi-busy road.

Shizuo liked to have friends that stayed a fair distance away from him, just in case they did or said something that he disliked and he flew into a rage, so it was quite odd for someone to suddenly sidle up to him and fling their arms around his waist, like some long-lost lover or another. Although he was sorely tempted to throw whoever it was off his back and simply leave some other sorry sod to ring up the hospital in his stead, he'd already damaged enough property and sent more people to their local emergency services in the past week, and it was clear that the President was far from happy with his conduct. He barely reined in his temper long enough to stub the cigarette on the wall beside him and open his mouth to bark out a warning to whoever it was that was clinging to him, but he found himself looking down and nearly biting his tongue in two at the sight.

The first thing he'd noticed was the unholy amount of white and pink adorning the person's slender arms and, if it weren't for the slight callouses that were evident on the unknown individual's fingers, the fake blonde would've sworn that whoever was hugging him was distinctly female. As it was, though, the pearly skin on the person's hands definitely spoke of too much time spent indoors, which obviously meant some sort of privileged lifestyle, and the angry man found his teeth gnashing at the thought of some random rich person hugging him for some stupid reason, like a publicity stunt. However, the all-too-familiar shape of the person's fingers quickly gave away the identity of the bastard clinging happily to his back, and he shed his self-restraint with a manic grin as he sought to buck the inconvenience off his body.

"S-Shizuo…" His boss attempted to calm him down, but nothing could stop the famed fortissimo of Ikebukuro when his primary antagonist was within his general vicinity.

"I-ZA-YA, get the FUCK off my back this instant, you damn flea!" Shizuo roared, and although he finally succeeded in flipping the annoyance off his back, he refused to stop in his rampage as he spun roughly on his heels and glared in the general direction of his enemy.

Or, at least, where he thought his enemy was.

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Instead of burning up the smirking nuisance that sought to destroy his life with his piercing glare, the debt collector found himself faltering in his deathly stare when watery cerise-coloured eyes met his own. Although the attire before him looked exactly the same as his annoying nemesis' usual clothing, with white instead of black and pink instead of tan, the trembling pout that rested on the other's lips and the kicked look being directed his way was definitely something that tugged at his heartstrings. Even if the nuisance vaguely resembled and distinctly smelt like the blood-sucking louse, there was something… _off_… about this person that made him want to apologize and fly into a full-blown rage at the same time. Whatever the person in front of him was, though, he couldn't deny the confused annoyance that bubbled up at the pathetic sight of the weepy man in front of him.

"Who in the _hell_ are you?!" The infuriated man barked, and the white-clad man quailed in his boots at the unnaturally harsh tone. "What's with that damn get-up, and why do you look like you want to cry, you stupid little pansy?!"

He had imagined that roaring at the nuisance would be enough to make the flea cave in and simply admit that he had somehow lost his mind and dressed up in the wrong clothing, but the heartbroken wail that met his ears was enough to disprove his half-baked theory. However, even as passerbys threw dirty glances at his seething form and a few brave souls ran up to help the sobbing man before him, Shizuo refused to admit that, perhaps, he was wrong to believe that this was Izaya.

The reply that the crying person gave him, though, was more than enough to quash any lingering notions of guilt that he had felt for the man.

"P-Psyche-chan thought you were T-Tsu-chan…" The man, who he assumed was Psyche, mumbled as his lower lip quivered slightly, "a-and Psyche-chan wanted to give T-Tsu-chan a surprise hug…"

_Who in their right mind goes around hugging people in this day and age anyway?! _The angered debt collector wondered mentally, even as the pathetic excuse of a person continued to simultaneously weep and explain their circumstances.

"P-Psyche-chan hadn't seen Tsu-chan in _y-years_ and he just wanted to g-give Tsu-chan a big surprise, but he didn't k-know that Tsu-chan had grown into a m-meanie-pants after all this time. If P-Psyche-chan had known then h-he wouldn't have come visit a-at all! H-Hmph!"

"Wait a moment, who're you calling a meanie-pants?!" Despite the weird embarrassment and the slight snickers he got for repeating the slighter man's words, Shizuo continued to forge ahead with his furious retort. "Besides, what does your 'Tsu-chan' look like anyway? He can't possibly look like me-"

"No, no, Stranger-san look exactly like Tsu-chan~!" For some odd reason, the man seemed to have perked up immediately as soon as Shizuo had stopped hurling angry accusations and insults at him, to the point where his tears and sniffly tone had almost disappeared. "Tsu-chan's got soft golden hair and he's _really_ tall and strong, but he doesn't wear that odd thing Stranger-san's wearing and his eyes are blue, not brown like Stranger-san's…"

"Okay, stop calling me 'Stranger-san', because I have a goddamn name and it's Heiwajima Shizuo," the blonde growled unamusedly, before he glanced downwards to his feet and mumbled, "if you want, I could help you look for your 'Tsu-chan' or whatever…"

"Ah, no, it's okay, Shizu-chan~" The pink-eyed man chirped happily, and Shizuo almost blanked in anger when he realized that the flea-like nuisance had attributed his hated nickname within mere seconds of learning his name. However, before he could do anything other than grit his teeth, the brightly-dressed male skipped towards his forgotten boss and peered closely at him for a moment.

"Besides, doesn't Shizu-chan have work to attend to with his boss?" Psyche quipped thoughtfully, even as he skipped towards Shizuo and nearly _nuzzled_ the man in some random display of affection. "After all, Shizu-chan has to go throw more people around and steal money from them, right?"

Just as the angered debt collector felt a vein on his forehead roar back to life with a furious throb, the oblivious man drew the final nail into his coffin when he breezily added, "besides, Shizu-chan might scare Tsu-chan away with his bad anger and loud roaring, and that'd be horrible~"

Tom and the other curious bystanders barely had the time to scramble backwards before a white blur sailed past the spot where Shizuo's poor employer had been standing before.

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"You follow me around for a whole freaking _week_ because you think I'm your 'Tsu-chan'…"

_CRASH_

"You _break _into my apartment and leave fucking _gifts_ with that _stupid_ strawberry scent…"

_BANG_

"If you had left me the _fuck_ alone then I might've just forgiven you; heck, if you had just talked to me like a civilized person then I'd be fine now…"

_BOOM_

"…But you just had to go and _freaking_ insult me, didn't you?!" Shizuo roared, even as another traffic sign met its miserable fate in the wall opposite him and the blurry white perpetrator dashed clear for the nth time with a gleeful squeak.

Under most normal circumstances, there would be a steady stream of pedestrians busily striding from Destination A to Destination B without any abnormal interruptions, but today was one of the days when commuters would scramble for the side-alleys and stay there to let the danger –which, under most circumstances, was Shizuo and Izaya– pass them by. However, even as the footpath was miraculously cleared of any pedestrians, more than a few brave souls stuck their heads out rather warily to watch the white anomaly bounce around the flying obstacles that the debt collector was throwing around. It was common to see the graceful and almost taunting actions of the Shinjuku informant as he danced smoothly around the projectiles that his Ikebukuro nemesis hurled at him, but to see someone else tackle the aerial obstructions with such playfulness and energy…

…Well, it wasn't something that most people would ever see in their lifetimes.

But then again, most people wouldn't ever see flying projectiles being hurled by a slim male with a horribly uncontrollable temper and then witness a crazy young man swerving around said projectiles.

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As the insane fight migrated from the streets to the local park, pigeons and other wildlife fled from the roaring blonde man while park benches, lamp-posts and the occasional tree whistled mournfully through the once-placid air to land in tangled heaps on their re-introduction to the ground. However, instead of skipping over flying objects like a weird approximation of a child or curiously observing all of the gravity-defying projectiles as they soared past him, the pink-eyed man would give a heart-wrenching wail every time a tree was uprooted and thrown towards him.

"Don't kill the trees, you big meanie-pants!" Psyche first cried, when Shizuo had finally succeeded in tearing a rather large oak from its comfortable position in the ground. "The spirits won't have a nice leafy home to live in if you tear them all out, Shizu-chan!"

"What the hell d'you mean by that?!" The blonde man had simply roared in reply, before he'd hurled the groaning trunk at the crying man.

"Uwaaaah, I'm sowwy for Shizu-chan's meanness, tree spirits!" The white-clad male piteously wailed, even as he ignored Shizuo's flabbergasted confusion and clung to the passing tree with an odd bear-hug. "I'll give you all a hug so that the landing doesn't hurt as much, okay? J-Just don't get angry at me for hurting you or for Shizu-chan's stupidity, ne…"

Although Shizuo had attempted to ignore Psyche's display of sadness at the tree's unfortunate fate, he continued to uproot tree after tree and send them hurtling towards the bawling man, simply because it gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction to see the Izaya-like person expressing some sort of remorse for his actions… even if it was directed at the trees and not at him. Every time, without fail, the white-clad man would leap onto the creaking trunks and deliver a quick hug to the offended 'tree spirit' before leaping off about a second before it came back into contact with the ground, and Shizuo would invariably be disappointed at the thought that the man hadn't been squashed. By the time the blonde was too tired to yank another tree from its perch in the soil, the bright afternoon light had faded into the dim ambience of dusk and his temporary opponent…

…Was nowhere to be seen.

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Every time Shizuo went through his dilapidated front door, he would sniff deeply at the musty air in his apartment and, just for good measure, stick his nose into every nook and cranny that he might've missed in his overall perusal of his home's dusty scent. After he'd coughed in an alarming manner for a few minutes on end, he would look underneath every single piece of furniture that existed in the living room, before he would move into his kitchen, bathroom and bedroom and repeat the process all over again. Despite having followed this odd routine for almost three days on end…

…Shizuo had yet to find any further traces of the oddity that had invaded his life not too long ago.

For the first time in a week, there was no unexpected gift, overpowering strawberry odor or any hint of pink and white at the edge of his vision. The odd intrusions into his private and public life had stopped as soon as he'd met his mysterious assailant and chased them throughout Ikebukuro, and though he couldn't quite believe his luck in ridding himself of the nuisance, he was overly cautious for a few more days to come. In fact, the events of the past week had unnerved him so much that it took a few weeks for him to stop chasing after people wearing white jackets with pink fur-trimmings and another month or so to control his temper around plushies and strawberry-scented things.

Despite the ups and downs that come with re-adjusting his life again, Shizuo was now able to sit on his sofa without feeling the urge to jump up and throw something out the window –though the fact that he would be evicted the next time he did so was a helpful reminder to keep him in check as well– and sleep at night without waking up every five minutes to check whether someone was in his room or not. Before long, the unnaturally high rate of public disturbance that occured around the blonde lessened just a little and there was a little less terror in people's gazes as they watched the strongest man in Ikebukuro stalk past them on the streets. Public property became moderately unscathed, as it had been before Psyche's appearance, and life went back to normal.

As far as Shizuo was concerned, it seemed, the incident had just been another extraordinary day in his unconventional life.

* * *

**~Epilogue~**

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"Ne, ne, Namie, did you record everything I told you to?"

"I did, obviously, since you were being so anal about it–"

"Don't forget who pays you to buy all those things you get for Seiji-kun, Namie~ You can't afford to mouth off against me when you could be fired at any moment, right?"

"…"

"Goodness, don't look like the world's going to end, it'll give you more wrinkles than you've already got! Just give me the video and let me see Shizu-chan's stupid reactions, ne?"

"Tch. Here, take the stupid thing…"

"Thank you, Namie~"

"…Now, can I go back to work or are you going to prance around in that stupid pink-trimmed jacket forever while whining at the top of your voice?"

"Ara, you wound me so with your words… but if you insist on the matter, then I suppose you can go back to work. Don't you want to see Shizu-chan when he blows up as soon as I glomp him and–"

"No, I'm not interested."

"You're such a spoilsport, Namie. Well, I suppose I might as well start watching this then. Oho, I can't _wait _to see how he reacts to my tree-hugging spectacle…"

While a maniacal cackle resounded in the minimalistic room and the clacking of high-heeled shoes punctuated the gleeful noise, a shudder ran down Shizuo's spine as he finished beating up another client that had been overdue on their payments. For a moment, he swore he'd seen a gleaming pair of red eyes staring at him from his periphery, but the mental image left his mind as quickly as it had come. After all, it was impossible for Izaya to be ruining his life when he had been keeping himself out of trouble lately… right?

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_25/5/14: Edited for minor grammatical errors_


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